Nintey-Nine Bottles

Chapter 2

As soon as I stepped into the classroom, everyone looked towards me. There was only five other students, only one of them being another girl. They were all the nerdy, leave-me-alone type and only spared me a few seconds of their time before returning their attention to the teacher. I handed the teacher my tardy slip and took a seat in the back, letting my bag slip to the floor beside me. I pulled out a notebook and a mechanical pencil and started taking notes while the teacher lectured on the first chapter. I let my mind wander back to the incident in front of my locker. That wasn't me; I never did things like that, ever. I barely talked to people, which is why they were so surprised. I felt my chest tighten and my heart began to beat sporadically. Why had I done that? What's going to happen now? I bit my bottom lip and forced the unease aside, taking a few deep breaths. My mind flashed back to the image of Chase almost eating it and I couldn't help but smile again. That was pretty funny considering who he was, and Desiree......that was even better. A small part of me was afraid of what she would do, but it was only a small, miniscule part. I enjoyed knowing I got under her skin, it doesn't happen every day. She was the "It" girl, head skank, top Barbie, plastic bimbo, evil Bit......I mentally slapped myself. Even if it was true, I still don't like calling people that word; it's degrading. And as much as I don't like her, the concept still applies. Desiree Jacobs is the type of girl who gets what she wants, is absolutely gorgeous, and completely ruthless if she feels threatened by someone, especially girls. This is why we've never gotten along. We never used to be friends, and never will be because our personalities, to put it simply, clash. I'm quiet, get good grades, and I'm nice while Desiree is....well, not those things. But that's not why she hates me. She hates me because apparently, I'm just as hot as she is. I'm not blind, I know I'm attractive, but I'm also not vain. I don't care if I'm pretty, and I wouldn't care if I was ugly. I jumped when the bell rang, shocking me beyond belief. Class was over already? I quickly packed up my things and headed out the door, checking to see what my second period class was. AP English, which was on the other side of the school. I put my schedule away and began to walk towards the south wing where most of the senior classes were. As soon as I rounded the corner, the catcalls and whistles started. I ignored them and kept staring straight ahead; I was almost there. I reached out to grab the door handle but my hand was slapped away. Ouch, that actually kind of hurt. I pulled my hand back and turned to glare at the culprit; Desiree. I should have known. I sighed heavily and mentally prepared myself for the stupid things that were about to come out of her mouth.

"Keep your slutty hands off of my Chase!" She hissed. Wow, that really didn't make her sound attractive at all. I bit my tongue and allowed her to just continue.

"Don't think for one second that you have a chance with him, because you don't. You're not attractive at all and you're so not his type." I blinked, becoming slightly confused. Did she realize what she said?

"Let me get this straight: I'm not Chase's type?"

"Yes! And you're not attractive"

I stifled a smirk, opting to raise an eyebrow instead.

"Uh Huh. So if I'm not his type" she opened her mouth but I cut her off, "nor am I attractive" her mouth snapped shut and she smiled smugly, nodding.

 "Then why are we having this conversation? There shouldn't be anything to worry about from what I'm hearing."

Her smile fell and she just glared at me, her blue eyes narrowing to slits. She really knew how to make herself look attractive; NOT. I didn't even flinch when she took a step closer to me, raising her hand as if to slap me. When she did, my head didn't even turn and my eyes didn't water. She stared at me, shocked.

"You slap like a little girl." The words came out before I even thought them. I smirked and looked up at her, my 4 inch heels not doing much to alter my 5 foot height. Yeah, I was short, but I was petite and had the body of a dancer. I flipped my long auburn hair of my shoulder, mocking her. I slightly turned and tilted my head to the left, exposing my cheek to her, my grey-green eyes daring her to hit me again. Her blue eyes widened and she took a step back, glancing around. It wasn't like me to do something like this; I never was this brave. Desiree seemed to realize what she was doing and made a failed attempt to regain her composure.